Mom was twirling in the kitchen again. She stretched toward the blue painted refrigerator, which she opened with a flourish and pulled out a chunk of farm-fresh butter. The Vivaldi blared on the stereo in the next room, where the burnt-orange shag carpeting provided little sound barrier, neither did the matching burlap-like drapes.
This post bears repeating. It's Mother's Day.
Hope you had a lovely Mother’s Day, Mollie!